


Sharing Stories

by Bakageta



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Other, POV Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Psychic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28247187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakageta/pseuds/Bakageta
Summary: Venom has not thought about story-calling in centuries, but when they see the bridge—the Bay Bridge Eddie’s memory fills in—shimmering in the foggy night air, they realize it would be perfect.What’s got you so excited?Eddie wonders within them.A surprise.
Relationships: Eddie Brock & Venom Symbiote, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 24
Kudos: 189
Collections: Venom-X-Change-2020





	Sharing Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sajastar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajastar/gifts).



> Betaed by StarryEden/Edenbooknerd.
> 
> This fic was originally posted 12-22-2020 and was redated for author reveals.

Venom has not thought about story-calling in centuries, but when they see the bridge— _the Bay Bridge_ Eddie’s memory fills in—shimmering in the foggy night air, they realize it would be perfect. Its tension cables are ideal for amplifying vibration. Of course there’s no one to call to, but that also means that there’s no one to punish them for frivolity, and no one to eat them while their guard is lowered.

It is an easy decision. A grin curls across Venom's face and they launch themself off of one of many skyscrapers in the East Cut and into motion.

 _What’s got you so excited?_ Eddie wonders within them, trusting and relaxed as Venom throws themself from building to building.

 **A surprise.** Venom is too focused on reaching the bridge to bother speaking out loud. **Something I have not done in a long time.**

Instead of suspicion, Eddie’s interest is piqued. He focuses solely on them and their intent, to Venom’s satisfaction. He is an outstanding host: welcoming and curious, involving Venom in every facet of his life, and trying to include aspects of what Venom tells him of Klyntar culture—such as it is. Venom has not told him much about their species. Sometimes because they do not want to think about it and sometimes because they do not know how to translate it on their own. It is easier to show Eddie and let him make connections than it is to try to tell him.

 _Do we have to go to the bridge?_ Eddie has picked up on some of their plan. Venom has gotten him accustomed to buildings, but Eddie is still uneasy when they swing between the vertical cables of San Francisco’s suspension bridges.

 **Yes. We might damage a building,** they tease, **and you get so bitchy when I do that.**

 _You’re like a cat,_ Eddie responds with a quick memory of a younger Mr. Belvedere tearing up his recliner immediately after being scolded for scratching on Anne’s new-at-the-time couch. The cat had shown absolutely no remorse. _A big gooey cat._

 **I am not.** Though it would be nice to have something to sink their claws into. Maybe a tree trunk or some nice, crumbly concrete instead of the glass they are sliding down.

 _I'll get you a scratching post,_ Eddie offers with glee, gathering the gist of their thoughts.

Eddie is picking at them, but Venom knows as sure as the beat of their shared heart that he would get them something to claw at if they asked. Being provided for—being taken into consideration—is a new sensation and it leaves Venom feeling unsteady every time it happens. They want, suddenly, to go back to the apartment, to curl around Eddie on the couch even as they want Eddie to hold them against his chest and surround them with his arms.

But that is also all the more reason for Venom to call, even if there is no one to hear them except for Eddie. Especially if there is no one to hear them but Eddie.

 **Do that,** Venom threatens as they make the leap from an office building to the scaffolding between the Bay Bridge’s two decks, **and I will eat the downstairs neighbor’s dog.**

Eddie laughs at that, bright in their mind and warm on their tongue. _I thought you said the dog would give us indigestion?_

**I am willing to make sacrifices in the struggle against indignity.**

More laughter from their host, and this time Venom joins him. Joy spills from their mouth as they race up one of the bridge’s main cables toward its first tower. They snag the longest vertical suspending cable, the one closest to the tower, with a tentacle, slide down to its midpoint, and come to a halt.

 _We’re here?_ Eddie asks when he realizes they have stopped. _It’s a nice view._

 **It is.** The Ferry Plaza and its surrounding piers are lit up before them, and the bay refracts the light dozens of times before it fades. It is an alien sight that Venom has grown accustomed to, as pretty as it is ugly. Fractured and whole and theirs for the taking. They are lucky to see it.

 **But,** Venom says as they wait for the cable still as much as it can while cars are driving on the bridge’s decks, **we are here for something else.**

Venom’s focus turns inwards as they alter the structure and density of their interior, drawing Eddie’s attention within them before he can ask more questions.

The basics of forming a story-call are simple. A set composition produces a set frequency and invokes a set meaning. But Venom has not called in ages and they want so much for Eddie to understand.

They carefully build the beginnings of their call: a low vibration deep in their chest well below a normal human’s hearing range. The whole time Eddie is quiet in the background of Venom's focus, and they lose track of him completely once the vibration is strong enough to push down tensed limbs and into the suspension cable where it blooms into an infrasonic hum.

Despite their audience of one, Venom introduces themself with bold, low frequencies, declaring themself bonded, accepted as part of a whole. Eddie is also included in the opening of their call, but there is no way to call his species let alone his name. Venom calls him their perfect host, their other half, the one meant for them. There is supposed to be more preamble to calling, but Eddie will not miss the filigree and trills that they are too eager and anxious to bother with.

Venom begins with confusion. They build discordant frequencies into a picture of fear and fire, capture and loneliness. Deadening sameness broken only by ill-suited hosts and the sense of warm, able bodies on the other side of glass panels. A soundscape of misery and the persistent, dry-mouthed sourness of dying hosts. Venom fades their hum into monotone wanting, desperation, and resignation.

(Within them, Eddie aches with and for them. He remembers his own mirrored isolation. Failing downwards until he stood on the Golden Gate Bridge and made a choice.)

The frequency nearly dies before Venom picks it up again, light and hopeful. They repeat Eddie’s introduction again and thread it with desire and possession. The call staggers purposefully into two contrasting tones as Venom tells of two separate beings becoming one. Each side struggling against the other ( _do not open that,_ Eddie remembers, _think of yourself as my ride_ ), but slowly they harmonize ( _You. You did._ ) into something that is one note short of a chord.

(Eddie smiles inside Venom at their honeyed memories. The contrast is amusing, but the light Venom has recast over their meeting is a beautiful one.)

Finally, the fight. Desperate again, but also determined, Venom’s two part harmony builds. It is unsteady ( _we were fighting a losing battle_ ), and three times it cuts out ( _separation, absorption, and near death,_ Eddie remembered). Each time the harmony returns, and each time a third tone grows stronger, until the harmony becomes a triumphant chord.

( _Venom and me,_ Eddie realizes. _And us, together._ )

Venom trails away, their vibrating hum quieting slowly and fading from the suspension cable that had been their bowstring. The time after the fire and during their recovery is not part of the story they want to tell. Too precious and tender to call out, even if there isn’t anyone capable of listening.

Then, suddenly, Venom is aware of Eddie’s rapt attention, his focus on them alone and his mind humming with thought and emotion.

 _Shit,_ Eddie says with a feeling like a deep gasp of breath. _That was like I was there again. What was that? Singing?_

 **Not singing,** Venom denies, thinking of the songs they have heard while Eddie walks the streets and the aisles of the grocery stores. **It was story-calling.** Venom shakes feeling back into their arms and legs as they try to express the difference.

The songs they hear when Eddie roams the city mean nothing to Venom, and Eddie seldom feels anything in response to them either—if he even notices them in the first place. Story-calling is emotion shared from one Klyntar to another across great distances, and when it is heard all you can do is feel.

 _Okay, not singing,_ Eddie agrees as Venom climbs the short distance to the top of the Bay Bridge’s first tower. _But it is music._

As they look out over the bay, Eddie offers his thoughts to Venom. Songs and music are two fuzzily separated categories of the same thing. They’re both made up of rhythm and melody and sometimes lyrics, but—to him—music is the stuff that grabs you by your ribs and makes you feel. Music is what Eddie felt in his chest at the first live show he ever went to, surrounded by friends and angry at all the injustices of the world. Music is what he felt in his heart sitting next to Anne holding her hand while the orchestra swelled, and music is what curdled Eddie’s gut as he listened to Anne’s favorite song on the radio after he lost her.

**Music means something.**

_Yeah, it does._

The urge to retreat to their apartment strikes Venom again. Venom wants, urgently, to listen to what Eddie believes music to be. They want to feel him as his body reacts to it, as it brings up memories, and taste what he feels. Could they call those feelings and memories into the air like they did their own? Could Eddie learn how to call for himself and let Venom be swept away by his frequencies?

This time, Eddie catches on to their longing, and he nudges them upright with uncoordinated movements.

 _I can play some of my records when we get home,_ he offers hesitantly, remembering screeching feedback and jagged guitar riffs, _see if you like any._

 **It will not hurt us.** Their bond is stronger now, it would take a combination of frequency and volume to make a sound deadly instead of just irritating.

 _Alright,_ Eddie agrees, joy and quiet anticipation in his mind. _And maybe we could stop by the pet store, get you a nice piece of cat furniture._

**Do that and I will eat the couch.**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading, please leave a comment or kudos!


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